


Tiger Teeth

by fruitcakes



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Actors, F/F, Fem!SVT, Getting Back Together, Song fic, fem!Soonyoung, fem!Wonwoo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-24
Updated: 2017-11-24
Packaged: 2019-02-06 07:13:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12812376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fruitcakes/pseuds/fruitcakes
Summary: For all she knows, they're back on the set of their first and only movie together— when Soonyoung had been the star and Wonwoo had been one of her co-stars, an indeterminate face in a crowd of people milling around her at all times.Wonwoo never thought much of how fast her heart beat whenever she saw Soonyoung, always assumed she was merely starstruck. But then, backed into the wall of Soonyoung's dressing room, the Dream Girl kissing the column of her neck with careful concentration, Wonwoo realised it ran much deeper.





	Tiger Teeth

**Author's Note:**

> i'm sorry for the shit summary i could not think of anything else.
> 
> this fic is based entirely off of this song: [Tiger Teeth by Walk The Moon.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8CekbouPGhQ) i first heard it two years ago and now, finally, the band has released a studio version and i'm over the moon (haha). soooo, i couldn't resit writing a fic about it.   
> anyways, enjoy.

Cameras are going off in every direction, flashes so intense they make stars dance in front of Wonwoo’s eyes. Even as her feet throb in the five-inch heels, and the seams of the dress dig into her sides, she slaps a smile onto her mug and strikes a pose or twenty. 

Then she's being hurried along and out of the limelight to blend in with a hundred other scintillating faces, each more stunning than the last. ‘Dressed to the nines’ is an understatement—Wonwoo feels like she's fallen into the Hunger Games and landed straight in the Capital. She knows everyone yet no one all the same. It's hard to tell with the spots still dancing in her vision and anxiety pooled in the back of her throat.

A waiter passes by and with agility that came seemingly out of nowhere, Wonwoo grabs a flute of champagne. Despite not being a fan of the taste, it's something to hold on to, much more certain than her manager who is at her side one second and gone the next to mingle.

_ Alcohol for company _ , Wonwoo sighs,  _ beautiful _ .

The hall is huge and even with all the people in there, it's hardly packed. In the distance, Wonwoo spots Jisoo. She look nothing short of ethereal tonight. Dressed in a flowy, rose grey dress with flashes of red, Jisoo is commanding much attention from the press and her peers alike. Wonwoo looks forward to seeing her on every best dressed list.

And Seungkwan is there too. Dressed in a sharp tailored blue suit, she makes a bold statement,  _ stands out _ . She's surrounded by a group of listeners who look more reverential than anything else as she seems to be narrating a funny anecdote. Not a surprise, considering her talent.

Everyone here is so extraordinary, Wonwoo doesn't know where to look. She's so overwhelmed that there's hardly time to feel self conscious, attention flitting from famous singer to famous actor to famous director.

She sighs when she notices her empty flute and immediately grabs another one. In the corner where she sits, Wonwoo thinks that is where she belongs. After all, she is an outsider. Jumping from the world of art films to well,  _ this _ has been an exhausting journey through and through, in more than one sense. Her confidence has grown and shrunk all at the same time and there's no real explanation for that.

Beyond the arch of the doors, the noise of the crowd slowly begins to swell and inflate before it bursts like a balloon, the  _ pop  _ lengthened to infinity as the cheers continue. Curiosity aroused, Wonwoo steps out. Hiding in the shadows, she cranes her neck to look out at the red carpet.

_ Oh _ .

For a second, Wonwoo thinks she might do something histrionic like drop the glass. Perhaps it wouldn't be all that dramatic, considering it feels like someone has punched all the air out of her lungs. Suddenly all the furore and noise makes sense, all the palpitations make sense.

Because currently on the red carpet, looking stunning in black, and holding every pair of eyes in the vicinity, is Soonyoung. The fans are screaming like manatees which isn't out of ordinary except they look  _ fond _ . Even the reporters look more than a little starstruck. There're some rookie actors hiding behind a pillar sneaking pictures, looking awed. As for herself, Wonwoo doesn't think she looks much better.

The reporter asks Soonyoung about her latest, most loved film so far. _Hurricane_ , that swayed critics, fans and the general public alike, brought everyone on board. _She's the star of our generation_ , read the reviews, _and she's_ _here to stay._

Wonwoo read them all, line by painstaking line and waited patiently for the familiar dregs of envy to wash up. They never did. All she felt was a subdued but solid sense of happiness, and the strangest feeling of being proud.

Wonwoo realises she's zoned out when the interview finally ends and everyone reluctantly lets go of Soonyoung, still staring at her back as she sashays down the carpet. They  _ worship _ her. 

Taking a deep breath, Wonwoo shivers lightly when she realises how much colder the night air feels. Truth is, her skin has become a little too hot and the wind bites against it, raising goosebumps in its wake. She sighs and walks back into the hall, now infinitely more intimidated by the idea of the event.

As soon as she steps inside, her manager appears at her side, seemingly out of nowhere. She grabs Wonwoo by the elbow and commences the forced socialisation.

All the talk, the ‘making connections’ makes Wonwoo feel so weary. But she knows it'll propel her career, no matter how minutely so she puts up with it. Except, her mind is not all there.

“How was the experience of working with Jacob Vadera?” the wrinkly, overweight man in front of Wonwoo asks.

Soonyoung is hugging Seokmin. They're giggling about something and her perfect curls have fallen to the wayside.

“Pretty,” Wonwoo replies.

“I’m sorry?” The man looks perplexed.

“-great! Pretty great!” Wonwoo amends hastily.

The ginormous, high-ceilinged room suddenly feels rather stifling. Wonwoo's manager glares at her. “Please excuse us,” she smiles sweetly at the man before grabbing Wonwoo's arm with her tarantula nails and dragging her away.

“ _ What _ ,” she spits, “are you  _ doing _ ?”

Wonwoo blinks. It… it can't be. She squints and tilts her head, straining to see without her glasses. Soonyoung brushes her hair back and Wonwoo think she's seeing things. Except, there truly are a pair of silver earrings dangling from Soonyoung's ears, glittering soberly. They stand out in the way they're so plain among the landscape of her studded dress and shining makeup.

Wonwoo realises a second too late that she's been caught staring, averts her eyes a little too late and feels a fire start burning in her chest as the embarrassment well and truly catches up. 

“Wonwoo!” her manager reprimands, but her eyes stay glued to the floor. “Are you even listening?” she hisses angrily and normally, Wonwoo would be afraid but right now all she can think of is the red pair of heels that clack against the marble, sounding more like a knell than anything else.

“Wonwoo.”

It's the same silky voice, the one millions across the country and the world are enamoured by. So is Wonwoo, perhaps more than any of them. She swallows thickly, hoping to quell her nerves as she works up the courage to raise her eyes.

She barely feels her manager slink away.  _ The sneaky woman _ , she berates.

“S-Soon,” she says. “-young! Soonyoung!” She amends hurriedly, head snapping up so quick it gives her whiplash. All her attempts at feigning indifference are set aflame before ever taking shape, as Soonyoung starts giggling.

“Nice to see you again, Won,” she says in the same breath as, “I don't mind the nickname.”

“I-”

“Articulate as always,” she teases.

Wonwoo looks down, nervousness building in her chest. The champagne bubbles away in the tinted glass.

“Congratulations on your film with Jacob Vadera,” Soonyoung says, sipping from her own flute, pink lips pursed around the rim.

Anyone else of Soonyoung’s stature and talent, Wonwoo would have scoffed in their face and dismissed it as a jab more than a compliment. But this is Soonyoung, and her smile is far too sweet for it to be anything but genuine. “Thank you,” Wonwoo replies, eyes catching on every feature. Made up like this, Soonyoung is stunning. But Wonwoo has seen her just after a long night's sleep, with bird’s nest hair and crusty eyes and that, she thinks was equally stunning too. But it's been a while, maybe she's twisting the memory’s arm.

“But,” she says, pinky pointed at Wonwoo's nose. “I think Mauve was a marvel. I watched it at the festival and cried my eyes out.”

That, Wonwoo values more than any praise she has received over the past year and incidentally, she has received a lot of it. But none for Mauve, a project that was actually close to her heart. Based on domestic abuse, it wasn't really a commercial film. But Wonwoo slogged day and night over it because she felt compelled to do the role justice, more than ever before.

“Thank you,” she says again, the phrase sounding almost mechanical. Now this is where Wonwoo is supposed to congratulate Soonyoung on the success of Hurricane, except the champagne seems to be acting up; it's bubbling in her chest now.

“How've you been?” Soonyoung asks. Her eyes are usually glimmering with a juvenile mischief but tonight it's magnified by the light refracting off the cut glass on the chandeliers.

“Oh, g-” but before Wonwoo can finish the reply, Soonyoung cuts in, “okay, enough small talk.”

She grabs Wonwoo's champagne flute and her own and places them on the table next to them. Foundering like an idiot, Wonwoo is about to ask her what she's doing. But she's being cut off again as Soonyoung grabs her left wrist and starts dragging her away.

She's too eager, almost pulling her arm out but the grip is surprisingly gentle. It still feels as if it's a hot brand against Wonwoo's skin.

“What are you doing?” Wonwoo squeaks, nearly stumbling in her heels, eyes glued to the way the muscles in Soonyoung's back shift.

“Just follow me,” she replies softly over her shoulder. It sounds so reassuring that Wonwoo wants to comply immediately.

Weaving through the groups in the room, Soonyoung is as good at evading attention as she is at garnering it. They make it to the very back unnoticed. Soonyoung takes her through winding corridors before she stops abruptly, causing Wonwoo to bump into her.

The door in front of them has an ornate ‘W’ on it. The light scent of lavender hits them as Soonyoung throws it open and tugs Wonwoo in before quickly bolting it shut.

“What are you doing?” Wonwoo asks again, voice level and stoic mask in place. Her skin is crawling in equal parts discomfort and excitement.

Soonyoung doesn't reply, not verbally at least. But she does take a deep breath and start stalking closer, the train of her dress trailing against the squeaky clean tiles.

Wonwoo refuses to budge, intent on holding her ground. But she can't, not if Soonyoung looks her in the eye. She instinctively stumbles back a little. A firm hand on her back doesn't let her go much farther. Wonwoo looks up and  _ oh _ , now they're really too close for comfort. The heady, familiar scent of vanilla that Wonwoo so loves, wraps around her like a blanket.

Soonyoung smiles as she catches her eyes. “Hello,” she says. Her hand withdraws from Wonwoo's back and there's the dichotomy of relief and wanting it back.

This up close, Wonwoo can see that her dress isn't black. It's a very deep shade of red, and the contrast of it against the lighter honey of tone of Soonyoung's skin is nothing short of stunning. And then there are the silver earrings that Wonwoo had given her, that she now wears despite their plainness.

“You could say something, you know,” Soonyoung says, legs crossed one over the other as she leans against the granite shelf. “An apology, maybe?”

Wonwoo internally winces. She really should have seen it coming. But she stays stubbornly silent. Wonwoo's fingers itch against her sides, restless to touch Soonyoung when she's within an arm's reach. If only Soonyoung would take one step closer, Wonwoo could wrap her arm around her waist and reach the zipper of her dress.

After a long moment, Soonyoung sighs wearily. “Obstinate, as always.”

“Big words,” Wonwoo replies instinctively.

The ice cracks and that makes the other girl crack a smile. She rolls her eyes playfully. “I've been reading,” she says, leaning away from the sinks and walking forward again.

There's something so cock-sure in the way she steps closer, but something equally hesitant in the way her hands are crossed across her stomach. And Wonwoo can’t take it anymore.

So she gives in. With a well-timed tug she pulls Soonyoung close and tilts her head to press their lips together. Caution returns quickly as it fled and she pulls back with a mortified little gasp, eyes still shut tight.

She's about to open them to read Soonyoung’s reaction, see if she's repulsed but there's no time when she's being drawn back in for another kiss, this one a lot longer and lingering. As Soonyoung carefully nips at Wonwoo's soft bottom lip, Wonwoo feels teeth sink deeper.

It's like pressing rewind on the same moment again and again, a cassette tape stuck in a loop of  _ Soonyoung, Soonyoung, Soonyoung _ . And Wonwoo has regressed six months.

For all she knows, they're back on the set of their first and only movie together— when Soonyoung had been  _ the _ star and Wonwoo had been one of her co-stars, an indeterminate face in a crowd of people milling around her at all times.

Wonwoo never thought much of how fast her heart beat whenever she saw Soonyoung, always assumed she was merely starstruck. But then, backed into the wall of Soonyoung's dressing room, the  _ Dream Girl  _ kissing the column of her neck with careful concentration, Wonwoo realised it ran much deeper.

When Soonyoung raised her head to press their lips together with a feverish determination, hand curled around her waist, as if decisive of keeping her, a bubble of unbidden emotion rose in Wonwoo's throat. She swallowed it down, right alongside Soonyoung and her low moan.

“Wonwoo,” Soonyoung calls, drawing her back into the present, where they are much in the same position.  

Wonwoo hums, hands busy tangling in her soft, blonde tresses.

“Wonwoo,” Soonyoung repeats.

“Yes, what do you want?” Wonwoo asks, signing with exasperation at Soonyoung's childish way of demanding attention.

The pause that follows isn't long enough for Wonwoo to prepare for what comes next.

“I want you back.”

~

Soonyoung sets a new record that night. Four. She wins  _ four _ awards. If it wasn't clear before that everyone is absolutely in love with her, it's certainly crystal by the end of the ceremony.

Everyone is hovering around her like bees, desperate for a shred of attention. Funny thing is, her mind is only on Wonwoo, who's standing in one corner looking at memes on her phone.

In a moment of respite, Soonyoung drags Wonwoo back to the restroom, where Wonwoo congratulates her with a short kiss. The night seems to be edging to its end and Wonwoo wants to make a few misfitted memories before she leaves.

“We should go now, you can't be absent for too long,” she murmurs.

Soonyoung beams, seemingly unable to let the smile slip off her face. She's on top of the world for more than one reason and it really shows. “See if I care.”

Wonwoo sighs. “But you have to go to the after party,” she argues.

“And you don't?”

“Well, no. I am not needed there.”

Soonyoung looks very affronted. “You're an idiot if you think I'm letting you out of my sight again.”

“That's creepy,” Wonwoo says with a grin.

But she follows Soonyoung to the after party anyways and then later, to her apartment as well. It's surprisingly homely and cozy despite the fact that Soonyoung is seldom there. And it's unchanged since Wonwoo last saw it.

She has changed into a borrowed pair of shorts that are too loose and a t-shirt too big but it works. Soonyoung steps out of the bathroom after finishing her extensive skincare routine and smiles at Wonwoo.

It's almost as if the past six months of radio silence never happened. Wonwoo's about to go into flashback mode but Soonyoung snaps her out of it as she jumps into the bed, latching onto Wonwoo's waist and digging her nails in.

“Oh my god,” Wonwoo deadpans. “Let go, I can't breathe.”

“Why? So you can run off again without a word and refuse to pick up my calls and leave me alone again.”

Well, that… didn't come out of nowhere. Wonwoo did do all of those things.

She turns slowly to look at Soonyoung, whose hold has loosened only slightly. There's guilt pressing into her chest and she feels like a child being berated.  _ I’m sorry _ seems inadequate and too much at the same time.

All of this uncertainty truly makes Wonwoo want to run away again. There's still the residue of makeup around Soonyoung’s eyes and it does nothing except make her more  _ real _ ; more than just a passing frame on a screen.

“Wonwoo,” she says slowly, hand curling around Wonwoo's waist so they're aligned like parallel lines, yet connected. “Tell me what happened.”

Wonwoo wants to stay quiet, hide away.

“It was,” she begins a little roughly. Pausing to clear her throat buys her more time, “too much to stomach.”

Too much, too easy, too sweet, too  _ everything _ . They rushed headlong into it, dived without filling their lungs with air and it made Wonwoo so afraid that what they had was fragile as a house of cards—one wrong breath and it would collapse.

Soonyoung is silent, even though the twitch in her mouth gives away that she's desperate to say something.

“But, leaving never did any good. Not when you had me the day we first spoke.”

The confession makes a smile bloom across Soonyoung's face. She leans forward and presses her lips too Wonwoo's shoulder.

They look like they don't belong there—like flowers in the desert or a tree on the moon. Yet, it's beautiful all the same. Wonwoo is still rigid in her stance and it makes Soonyoung sigh.

“Just give in already, Wonwoo. I love you and you love me. Can't it be that simple?”

“Soonyoung, what if-”

“What if  _ nothing _ , Wonwoo.”

And there's that self-assured finality in it, the one that's unique to Soonyoung. It makes the fight leave Wonwoo in droves and droves till she's falling forward to kiss Soonyoung till they're both breathless. Wonwoo has to wonder if it's just a moment of madness, or if she's truly found her home.

The entire night has been a slowly building yearning and it culminates now in this august moment.

~

The night seems to be never ending, the dark extending till time seems meaningless.

“I didn't know you could sing,” Wonwoo says, her face in the crook of Soonyoung's neck. She feels her laugh.  

“I figured I'd give it a try,” she says, referencing to her feature in a Mars & Venus song. It was a beautiful ballad and Soonyoung had sounded ever so dulcet.

“Sing it for me.”

She does and it's like floating alone in a paper boat on a black river—so quiet in its sadness.

And Wonwoo knows she could never leave again even if she wanted to.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading and tell me what you thought of it!! <3


End file.
